


Sweet Submission

by JupiterJoon



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Aftercare, Bondage, Caning, Daddy Dom Kim Namjoon | RM, Degradation, Dom Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Dom/sub, F/M, Impact Play, Teasing, Verbal Humiliation, brat!you, safeword check ins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:13:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JupiterJoon/pseuds/JupiterJoon
Summary: Brat!Reader pissing off her doms (the reader-insert version of Cane Sugar and Hard Candy)
Relationships: Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Reader, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/You, Kim Namjoon | RM/Reader, Kim Namjoon | RM/You
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	1. Cane Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy these random sub-reader pieces! I wrote them on a whim inspired by Namjoon's Daddy Long Leg photos and then kind of writing a stereotypical Hoseok dom but then actually really getting into it...

“Baby, you home?” Namjoon’s voice calls from inside the house as you enter. It floats to you on the air of nonchalance, but you know better.

He’d been waiting for you.

You grip the doorknob tight and take a deep breath before you finally close the door and let go.

You’re in trouble.

And yet, you can’t help the devilish smile that has you twisting your lips to keep it under control as you remove your shoes in the entryway. You pad lightly into the living room, hands innocently laced behind your back as you peer in only for your breath to catch in your throat.

Namjoon hadn’t changed out of his work clothes, elbows perched on his crossed legs and hands folded neatly on his chin. His gaze, dragon-like with the cut of his stare and burning with the embers, locks onto you once you appear. He recrosses his long legs, his slacks stretching and the shine of his shoes catching in the low lamp light, and you notice something caught across his lap.

A cane.

Your knees buckle a bit.

“No hello?” Namjoon asks with a tilt of his head.

You stand a bit straighter, trying to put on a beaming smile as your heart accelerates. “Hi, daddy.”

Namjoon’s eyes crease, and you imagine the fond smile hiding behind his hands. But when he sighs, dropping his long, slim fingers to grip the dark wood of the cane, his face is anything but kind, and your stomach leaps with excitement.

He slouches forward, resting his chin on the cane and spreading his legs. You can’t help the way your gaze dashes down, checking to see the strain of his slacks against his cock. But when Namjoon smirks at your thirst, you glance away with a blush.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” He asks, voice low, deep, thrumming through your veins and slowing the blood that your heart is so desperately pushing into your cheeks.

“How I missed you,” you mumble, annoyed at how weak your voice sounds at the response. You did. You missed daddy so much. He’d been so busy lately, ignoring your calls and giving brief excuses over text. As always, you were in need of attention. _His_ attention. Sure, Namjoon had a job to do, but you didn’t care about that when you had so much want.

So maybe, just maybe, you put on the lingerie he had bought you and wore it to a dinner with someone else. And taken a picture in the bathroom to prove it. And explained your little mishap in great detail to him.

And rightfully gotten his attention in the best way possible.

You couldn’t help it, you loved to tease Daddy. Make him mad. Get him all worked up and only thinking about you. What he could do to you. How he could put you back in line every time you acted out.

“Hmm…” Namjoon starts, eyes closed. You immediately want to stomp your foot. You want him to look at you. “Do you really?”

“Yes!” You say this time, more confidently, and low and behold actually stomp your foot like a child. Namjoon hears it, smile perking up again. Even with eyes closed, you can feel how condescending his gaze would be at your outburst, amused at how easily you flipped.

“Seems like you’re doing just fine,” Namjoon finally looks at you again. Cold. God, you love it. You want him to reach out and touch you, fingers like fire as his gaze sends ice through your veins.

But he does nothing, he just watches as you fidget under his stare.

“I’m not fine,” you finally say, glancing down at your feet. “I need you, Daddy. You were ignoring me. I get lonely, you know that.”

Namjoon’s eyebrow raises and his jaw clicks, cheeks hollowed out as he sucks on his cheek. He taps the cane on the floor once, twice, and you feel how wet you are between your thighs when your body jolts. “Are you scolding me?”

You should say no. You should say you’re sorry. But you want him to touch you. In any way. You love the dangerous game of what will happen if you get him really mad. You fiddle with your fingers as you mutter, “I’m just stating facts.”

You hear the scoff and fold your lips in to keep from smiling at the sound of Namjoon’s shoes on the ground. You wait for him to grab your chin, your waist, to whirl you around in his grasp…

But nothing comes.

“Facts, huh?” His voice is elsewhere, so you glance back up to see him running his long, pretty fingers over the surface of the side table next to his chair. He hasn’t let go of the cane though, casually leaning his weight on it. “Let’s talk about facts then. Tell me, baby, what are you wearing?”

You chew on your lip. “My favorite top.”

Namjoon’s hand stills on the counter. “And?”

You feel a giggle erupt in you despite your nerves. Yes, yes, yes. “And my favorite lingerie.”

Namjoon gives a wry chuckle. “Show me.”

Your hands still where they fiddle in front of you. “Huh?”

Namjoon jerks his head in your direction, raking over your body. “Show me. Show me _daddy’s_ favorite lingerie.”

With a shaky breath, you try not to rip the clothes from your body. You know he’ll laugh at your eagerness. If he can tell, he’ll make you wait longer. Let his body hover just close enough to feel his heat but not touch, and that’s the _worst._

So, you unbutton your shirt slowly, fingers missing a few times as you start to quiver with anticipation. When you let it roll off your shoulders, the black and blue lace lining your breasts and waist, he’s not even watching.

“Daddy,” you pout. What the hell? You wave at yourself. “Daddy, look.”

Namjoon hums, picking up the cane to inspect the length instead. “You didn’t wear it for me to look at, though.”

You resist the urge to whine. “Yes, I did.”

“You know,” Namjoon remarks as though you hadn’t spoken. He turns and sits back in the chair and you have half a mind to go plop right in his lap. “When you came in, I could see it. That flimsy little blouse let all the intricate designs show through. See how it pulls at your skin. That’s why I like it, you know. The way it hugs you tight. The color looks great on you, too.”

You smile a bit, spinning as you start to fiddle with your pants. “I know, daddy. I love it.”

“But don’t you remember what I told you?”

A little too giddy, you nod and remark, “It’s only for daddy. Anything you buy me is only for daddy’s eyes.”

You freeze, ankle almost rolling in your wadded-up pants as you stop your display and realize what you said. Namjoon gives a genuine smile this time. He holds a finger up to wag as he reminds you of your words. “Only. for. Daddy’s. Eyes.”

You shudder. God, what you wouldn’t give for just that finger on your lips. “You can see it now, though. And I showed you.”

“Oh, yes,” Namjoon says, laying the cane over his lap. “You showed everybody, baby. That’s breaking the rules.”

“But it got your attention,” you say a bit too boldly, satisfied that you’re at least half-naked now, Namjoon’s cock tenting between his spread legs.

“Mhm, it did,” Namjoon agrees with a nod. “Couldn’t stop thinking about it all day. What a forgetful little thing you are.”

You are about to retort when you realize it’ll do nothing but make things worse. But Namjoon catches it. “But you’re smart. You knew. You flaunted yourself like a little slut in front of that man and told me every little detail about his roaming gaze over my baby like you just wanted someone else to fuck you, didn’t you?”

Namjoon raises one hand, finger beckoning you closer, and part of your body tells you to run. But like the brat you are, you even disobey that inkling that says pain is coming, get out. Because you want it, so bad. 

“Daddy works so hard to buy you pretty things and all you can do is throw yourself at the first dick you see, huh?” Namjoon questions as you step closer. He spreads his legs a bit further as you step in between them. Even below you, his gaze makes you feel so small. “This cock isn’t enough for you? A few days and you just turn into a cumslut for anyone?”

Your mouth waters at the word cock. God, you want his cock in your mouth. “You’re all I thought about, daddy. I just wanted you. I knew you’d pay attention. I just want you to look at me and only you.”

“Oh, I’m looking,” Namjoon remarks, hand gently ghosting down the front of your body. Your breath catches, desperate for any kind of touch.

“I want _you_ , daddy. Touch me,” you whine, finally, too desperate when he’s so close. “Fuck me.”

Your body tenses as something cold and smooth runs up the inside of your shins. The cane.

“I want you, too, baby,” Namjoon says, and there’s a fondness in his voice that breaks the coldness in his expression. Somehow, it only makes you wetter, knowing how true that statement is. But your thoughts blank as the cane brushes between your thighs and finally, finally, there’s pressure against your sopping core.

Namjoon watches as he rubs the cane against you, eyes dark as you gently rock your hips. “I want to remind you that you’re mine. Only mine. Other people aren’t supposed to see the pretty things I buy you. They’re for my eyes only, just like that pretty, desperate stare you get when you are so fucking needy for me.”

You can’t help it now. You nod, whining a bit as you try to close your legs around the cane. His voice snakes down your spine and pools in your core, almost more powerful than the push of the cane and the press of the fabric. “Just yours, daddy. Always.”

“I’m glad to hear,” Namjoon says, lowering the cane. You don’t remember when you closed your eyes, but you can’t help the return of your pout. You finally got what you wanted but only for a brief, heavenly minute.

“But did you or did you not disobey me anyways?”

God, how could you possibly get any more wet. “I did.”

“You like to piss me off, don’t you?” Namjoon asks, like he doesn’t already know the answer.

“I like daddy’s attention,” you try to argue. But yes, yes, yes do you love to see that stare. And when Namjoon grabs your chin, the touch searing as his knuckles dig into the line of your jaw, you almost whimper. Yes, have you longed for Namjoon’s strong grip, his brutal hands, the soothing voice as he breaks you down. 

“You like daddy mad,” Namjoon corrects. He’s right. “And you’ve been bad to make daddy mad. So, daddy has to remind you to be a good girl, doesn’t he?”

You could lap your tongue out and lick his thumb. Take it in your mouth. Suck the taste of him off his skin. But instead you nod, trying not to do so too quickly, eyeing the cane.

Namjoon’s grip drops from your chin and you feel empty, like your neck would break without him there to support you suddenly. You naturally sway into him, but he grabs your hips and the image of him fucking you down onto his lap has your head swimming.

Instead, he stands, body pressed to yours. You do collapse now, his scent filling your senses and his breath lightly brushing over your lips. “Why don’t you bend over that nightstand and I’ll cane you for every hour I had to wait for your naughty little ass to get here? Think that’s enough to remind you who you belong to?”

Oh, god. You barely breathe, “Yes.”

Namjoon gently reaches up, the hands on your hips turning into teasing touches to your sensitive sides. He gently pushes your hair behind your ear, eyes suddenly stern as he waits for your gaze to meet his. “Color?”

“Green.” You say immediately.

Namjoon smiles then, eyes hooded as he grabs and spins you to face the side table. “Then bend over and take it.”

With shaky hands, you bend over and press your body to the marble top of the old side table. Your legs spread to hold your weight, and you can feel the wetness between your thighs cooling. Namjoon hums appreciatively, the cane tapping at your feet to spread a bit farther. You hope he likes the view, arching your back a bit as you brace your arms on the legs of the table.

“What was it, six?” Namjoon questions. The cane traces over your ass, lightly tapping against the base of your spine. He continues to familiarize the texture with the back of your thighs, your ass, every touch having your breath catch at the thought of him pulling back and smacking you hard.

“Seven,” you try.

“Do you just want seven?” Namjoon asks with a laugh. God, it sounds like he’s mocking you and you love it. But still, you nod. You want anything he’ll give you. “Alright, seven. Think you can handle it? Be a good girl for once?”

You nod quickly again. “Mhm. Please. I’ll be good for you.”

“That’s new,” Namjoon scoffs. You make to retort but–

 _Crack_.

You cry out, body immediately filled with a sting and rush of arousal all at once. The cane makes an unusual sound compared to the paddles, sharper. The feeling is gone all too quick.

“Again.”

Namjoon tuts. “Again? Still think you’re calling the shots here? Do I just bend to your every whim?”

The cane comes again low on your thighs. It aches as soon as it hits, and you moan, feeling saliva pool in your mouth.

“You’re the one bent over right now, baby,” Namjoon explains, another quick thwack right where your cheeks meet. It stings, the feeling sharp then spreading and you feel yourself push back for more. And you get it. Part of you is almost sad you’re halfway. The ache deepens as he hits the same spot again, the feeling lasting longer, wishing you could grind into anything to release the tingle that spreads between your legs.

“You like it?” Namjoon asks, his voice sounding a bit breathless. You nod quickly, moaning, not wanting anymore conversation to spare the next hit. Instead, your legs buckle when Namjoon’s warm palm smooths over your lower thighs, fingers dipping close but not close enough as he kneads at your beet red ass. “So pretty, my little painslut.”

You whimper at that. Yes, you are. You want more. Need it. “Please, daddy.”

The hand is still on your ass when another crack causes your body to jiggle against the impact. It ricochets through your body, goosebumps standing on your arms as you moan out. Namjoon’s hand switches side, fingers digging into the flesh as he lands the cane on the other side. You feel like you could come right now, overwhelmed by your heated skin, his hand, and the cane now smoothing over the skin it smacked.

There’s a familiar tinkling that has you trying your best to turn around. The sound of a belt. Your body rushes, thinking there’s a round two. But instead, the cane shoves into your thighs, shoving you all the way forward on the table. Then nothing.

Just the sound of a condom wrapper ripping.

“Fuck,” you can’t help but breathe out, adjusting your grip on the counter.

“That’s right,” Namjoon remarks. When he speaks again, his voice is so close. “You just look so pretty like this, spread out and desperate for me. Can’t help but fuck you senseless.”

Your head lulls forward because that is all you want right now.

“Want me to fuck you? Smack that raw ass until I come?” Namjoon asks with hands tracing over tender skin.

“Yes, yes, green, green,” you give your color without being asked, wanting it as soon as possible.

The cane slips between your waist and the table, and suddenly, with a harsh tug, Namjoon uses it to pull your hips back onto his fat cock. You moan, tears in your eyes at the sudden spike of pressure and pleasure ripping through your body. The skin of his hips is warm against your ass as he slams in again, using the cane to guide your body over his dick like a rag doll. It’s a different kind of ache and sting that reminds you of the burn of the cane each time his hot skin meets yours.

He’s grunting, calling out names like cumslut and baby and painwhore, but you barely register any of them, just crying out and whining in response for more, more, more, as your fingers curl into the wood of the desk and body is alight with arousal. The spit in your mouth sloshes down your chin as he fucks into you so hard the table starts moving across the floor. Your legs shake, unable to take the way the head of his cock drags over your walls, the cane pressing hard on your lower abdomen, so he hits the same spot just right.

You cry out, moaning his name, or trying as your lips barely function more than to sink your teeth into them. Your body can’t hold you as the sensation builds and builds even as you orgasm, washing through you and turning all the stinging and ache into a cacophony of pleasure. Your head lulls, nothing but mumbles as Namjoon pushes in a few more times before coming himself, the satisfied moan sounding more heavenly than any name he’s called you tonight.

You whimper when he pulls out. Now that you’ve come, the ache in your ribs from being pressed against the table comes in. Your arms are sore from holding yourself up. It’s a different, more unpleasant kind of pain.

Namjoon’s hands though, just as firm as before, are gentle as they slip under your waist to pull you upright. With a short turn of his step, he’s settling down into the chair, careful to prop you in his lap so that your sore ass is resting between his spread legs. With soft kisses to your temple and strokes to your hair, he whispers “My baby, baby, baby.”

You hum, draping your sore arms around his strong shoulders. The plush of the chair feels nice, but it’s nothing compared to the thread count of Namjoon’s bed. You blink over at him, his now flushed face and soft, wide eyes that are checking in. “Bed?”

“Of course, baby,” Namjoon mutters with a light kiss to your nose. Those lips that had called you all the names you loved looked so soft when he lightly pressed them to your forehead next. “I’m gonna carry you over then get some cream, okay?”

You nod with a small hum, resting your head against his shoulder. He coos, and you know you look cute right now and use it to your advantage.

On the bed, Namjoon lays you gently on your stomach. He quickly pitters off before returning, one hand rubbing soothing strokes up and down your back while the other dabs lotion gently over your bruised skin.

He’s unusually quiet.

“You okay, daddy?” you ask, turning to glance at him. He watches his handiwork but gives a small smile. He’s taking care of you, but that doesn’t mean he might not need something, too. “You sure?”

Namjoon finishes his work, caps the lotion, then gives you his attention. “You really only wore this to rile me up, right? You haven’t been wearing it for anyone else.”

You frown. You roll over just enough to stretch your arms out, beckoning Namjoon to come lay beside you. When he does, you drag his arm over as a pillow, placing his other over your waist. He chuckles, letting you manhandle him as needed.

Finally, you rest your palm on his cheek, brushing gently. His eyes close slowly, twisting to give your wrist a kiss. “I only wore it for you. I’m sorry, was that too much?”

Namjoon shakes his head. “No, I think I got a bit caught up myself. I knew you wouldn’t but… I wanted to hear it.”

You nod again with assurance. “Anything, just ask.”

Namjoon’s eyes in bed are always different. There’s a kind of vulnerability there you never see anywhere else. As he watches you watch him, he takes your hand from his cheek to kiss your knuckles. Slowly, he intertwines your fingers and asks, “Kiss me?”

You can’t help the silly smile that spreads over your face. You lean in, pressing your lips to his, feeling the tension in his grasp melt, his arm behind your head moving to curl you in closer. It’s a lazy kiss, no heat from before making its way into the sheets. Namjoon’s touches are sweet and pure, holding your almost-naked body close as you thread your fingers through his hair.

“I love you, daddy” you tell him, as you always do.

Namjoon smiles, teeth on show and dimples deep, as he kisses you once more. “Love you too, baby.”


	2. Hard Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Onto Bratty!reader's second dom, her Sir, Hoseok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** a note about capitalization in this chapter. Although Hoseok is out of town now, reader and Hoseok have somewhat of a 24/7 dom/sub relationship. Because of this, she always holds him in high standing, so his pronouns and names are always capitalized to signify this.

In the hotel bar, there are many beautiful things. The glass chandeliers overhead, which cast everything in a low, warm glow. The plush, red sofas that are scattered about before dark wooden tables. The eggwhite napkins wrapped in silver and gold twine which hold intricate silverware pieces within. Plenty of people dressed to the nines scattered about drinking from glasses of vibrant orange cocktails and golden scotches.

Hoseok, sitting before you in a newly pressed maroon suit, still had to be the most gorgeous thing in the entire place. Legs crossed, He lounged comfortably as you sat buzzing and impatient across from Him. Over and over again, you felt yourself drawn into His palpable energy, a sense of control in any space. He seems comfortable yet entirely aware of the room around him. Aware of you so close. You keep drifting forward into his orbit, but you try to sit straight for him.

He sipped his tea; no alcohol this evening like the other patrons because He had a big night planned. You drank nothing because you were not asked if you wanted anything. Moreover, you are here practically as a meal.

For Hoseok to devour you.

Time ticks by slowly, though only a few minutes pass. Hoseok flies out tomorrow, and you want to cherish every moment you have left with your Sir. When you had to wait for your bruises to heal from Namjoon before you could see Him again, the delay was more painful than the bruises themselves.

“So,” Hoseok finally speaks. Out of habit, your posture corrects so you can face Him properly. “ I take it Joonie didn’t like your little scandal ?”

You resisted the urge to smirk. Hoseok knew already. You debriefed Him as soon as you and Namjoon finished cuddling. He’d loved every second of it because He had been the man you were out with that day when you were trying to gain Daddy’s attention by playing around with Sir.

Hoseok seems to pick up on your shift in attitude, leaning forward to stir some more sugar into His tea. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yes, Sir,” you answer quickly.

“Mhm, bet your daddy took good care of you.”

“He always does,” you comment, loving the way His smile falters. Hoseok stops stirring His tea, eyes cutting to you in a way that makes your heart swell and body shrink.

This back and forth is your favorite. You’re a brat, playing off both their nerves to get what you want.

Hoseok watches you and your barely contained smile, taking a sip of His tea. He sets it down, rolling His pretty lips as He hums low and inquisitive. “Doesn’t he? Even when you are a bad little girl with me.”

“You like it when I’m bad,” you remark, only to clasp your hands tightly at the click of Hoseok’s tongue. You had not been spoken to, thus it was not your place to speak.

But He disregards it quickly, enjoying the conversion. “That’s right. I let you be the little devil you want. I encourage it.”

“Mhm, yes you do, sir,” you practically bounce out of your seat, desperate to be the devil Hoseok loves. His teasing has your mind riled up with thoughts of last times-- wrists ringed red, voice hoarse from moaning around a gag, limbs aching from restraints, head dizzy from Hoseok’s sharp tongue-- all the times, and what awaits this time.

“Did you have fun using me?” Hoseok suddenly comments. He’s not looking at you, checking His warmed hands with a feigned frown of scrutiny. You watch those delicate fingers of His twist and turn, desperate to feel them on you.

“I didn’t use you, I’m here to be used,” you pout. 

Hoseok laughs at that. It’s a loud, genuine sound that fills the small bar. Hoseok is always quick to laugh, to love, to punish. The bright sound draws the attention of everyone in the moon, taking in the marvelous, kempt person who sits before you.

You don’t like it. He’s yours right now, and you’re His.

“Don’t play cute with me, kitten,” Hoseok sighs, wiping at His eyes. “We both know the little game you played. Trying to control your Sir to get something from daddy. So greedy.”

You open your mouth to protest, but you can’t really think of anything. Not when He’s smiling at you like that, eyes low. Hoseok’s swift though, and He continues, uncrossing His legs to lean in, and you eagerly do the same.

Voice low, bordering on a growl, His hot breath scented with chamomile and lavender growls in your ear, “Fine, you can use me. Because I am going to have my own fun using you like the little fuck toy you are until there’s nothing left for daddy. I’m going to ruin you.”

You stand immediately, gathering your things.

The incredulous furrow of Hoseok’s brow makes your heart flip. For a second, forgetting where you are, you think (and hope) He’s going to reach out and tug you back into your seat. Instead, He stands, moving next to you. He doesn’t take you anywhere though, just giving you a coy, warning smile. “Where are you going?”

You want Hoesok to punish you. To feel His firm grip around your waist as He possessively regains control. To run off and have Him follow. But you know that won’t work with Him like it would with Namjoon. He may like it when you’re bad, but Hoseok is always in control. He’ll watch you run off and smile fondly when you return. He’ll let you act out and withhold everything you want until you put yourself back into place. His little play thing, but really it is always you begging to be played with.

You settle your feet, standing still and waiting for Him to move instead. You simply explain, “To be ruined.”

Hoseok blinks at you for a second, face blank, before He bursts with laughter again. There’s something vicious twisted in it, like you should regret being so eager.

You never do. Not with Him. He could break you a thousand times over, yet you’d still push Him for more.

The lightest brush of a touch follows the zipper of your dress, settling a polite distance above your lower back to lead you towards the elevator. You can’t help the arrogant smile that tugs at your lips watching the other bar-goers double-take as Hoseok, pretty yet undeniably handsome, pass by them and out of the bar as your date. 

On the way to the elevator, you barely keep your steps even with His. The words float by as Hoseok leans in to press the “up” button, “And ruined you will be, kitten.”

As soon as the door closes, you practically whine when Hoseok’s hand drops from your arm. The light fades from each number to the next on the panel, you think back on the script He sent you for tonight.

He was by the book. His soft and lighthearted nature drew people in, but His firm hand kept them rooted. He always sent you the scenes beforehand for approval, and He scoped out the hotel and checked that you were okay with the space. And yet, while you always felt prepared walking into a scene with Him, you never quite knew how it would go down. He kept the exact choreography a secret. Purposefully so, that you were at His mercy to guide you through the scene. And you always trusted Him to take good care of you… in the worst way.

Hoseok slides the keycard in and opens the door. He waves you in, and you try not to dash forward. Every second closer is still a second away from his touch. So, you do your best to admire the lavish suite He booked. Always a man of luxury, collecting and enjoying pretty things. Like you.

“How do you like the room?” Hoseok asks.

“Hmmmm,” you say, tracing your fingers gently over the soft comforter. You don’t want to talk. You try and rile Him into action. “Could have been better.”

He gives a dry chuckle, and you can imagine Him shaking His head as you hear the contents of His pockets drop on the counter of the small kitchenette. “That’s you, always wanting more.”

He comes up behind you, grasping tight onto your waist. The wind rushes from your lungs at finally, finally feeling Him on you. It had been weeks since you’d last seen Him.  At lunch earlier that week, He had refused to touch you since the moment technically belonged to Namjoon. You’d had to watch His lips curl around His fork instead of your skin. See His fingers stir the tea instead of stretch you open.

And now, finally, His hands warmed through the thin fabric of your dress as they dragged firmly down the material, in between your thighs. With a jerk that leaves you gasping, Hoseok kneads the bunched up fabric against your pussy. You’d all but crumble if your body wasn’t wound so tight in anticipation.

He chuckles low into your neck as He noses at the skin, feeling your weight fall into His grasp with a moan. “That’s why you’re here, right? For more. So needy for more.”

“Yes, Sir,” you barely breathe with a relieved sigh, doing your best to avoid grinding your hips into His hand. You hadn’t realized how wet you were just from His heavy gaze and suggestive words.

His other hand grabs your ass, but it’s gentle. He gauges your wince at the still sensitive skin. There’s disdain as He appraises, “Already used up.”

“Mhm, you’re going to have to get creative,” you snicker.

Just like that, the touch is gone, replaced with a firm shove that has you toppling onto the bed. “Come again?”

You glance over your shoulder and feel your body move on instinct, belly up and open for Hoseok under His glare, hand on His hip. A bit more firmly this time, eyes wide, you respond, “Sorry, sir.”

“Ah,” Hoseok scoffs, crossing His arms. You want to whine, have Him join you. He raises His eyebrows and shakes His head disapprovingly. “I guess Joonie got too soft with you. Is this a joke now?”

“No, Sir,” you shake your head quickly, trying to fight back your smile at His annoyance.

“Do you want to even call me sir, anymore?” Hoseok questions, head tilted as though He may really just walk out the door. He wouldn’t, but part of you is never sure of Hoseok.

“No, Sir!” You say quickly, scrambling onto your knees. Wait, He said  _ do you want _ . “I mean, yes, Sir?”

Hoseok takes you in for a second, hips straining in your dress as you sit on your knees. You glance down, wondering what He’s so fixed on, only to realize your wetness had soaked into the dress where He gripped you. You should blush, but the only heat rising in your cheeks is a triumph at getting His attention.

When He realizes you're focusing on the same thing, He smiles. Instead of helping you out, telling you it’s okay, He turns to the bag you hadn’t noticed before on the table. “Such a sopping mess that you can’t even think straight.”

He dips His hands into the bag and turns, revealing a bar. “These manners. Didn’t know you’d become such an ungrateful cockslut if I left you alone this long. Going to have to do something about that.”

“Please, Sir,” you all but mutter, interested in whatever He holds in His hands.

“But I’ve got to be careful, don’t I?” Hoseok muses, tapping the bar lightly in one hand like a baseball bat as He approaches your kneeling form. You hurriedly lock your wrists behind your back for Him. He smiles, still inspecting the bar, appreciating the gesture. “Don’t want you running off to daddy. This is my time.”

You nod. While the two men both owned you, they were careful of your affection for both. They never forced you to compare your affections and never questioned your commitment to them (only your pitiful commitment to rules). You were theirs. And when you were with one of them, you were his alone. “Your time, Sir. I’m only yours.”

“Stand.” It’s low and short, a signal like that given to a dog. And like a dog, you stand.

He holds the bar before you, and now you remember the toy He’d asked you about. As He spins it, you see the four clips dangling, ready to be hooked to cuffs. With a little pout, Hoseok dips the bar under your chin to raise your gaze to His. The metal is cold against your burning skin, and you only flush harder at the excitement in his dark eyes. “Gotta tie you down so you don’t run off to Daddy again.”

You are always a tease and a brat… until you are before them, so close to your goal. When they watch you like this. When sex is dangled before your starved, insatiable libido. Here, you quickly break under their will. Your resistance is minimal. It’s a compliment to how much they affect you, how well they treat you.

Hoseok takes in your bewitched expression, smirking to Himself. He can feel the bob of your throat jostle the bar in His hands as you swallow from salivating over the thought of Him tying you up and using you. “Strip for me.”

It takes you a second, realizing you have to step back from Him. Away from the slightest warmth you can feel. But you do as you are told. Despite your eagerness making you bend the rules, there’s something different with Sir. While you like to tease Namjoon to a breaking point that ends in punishment, you want to please Hoseok.

So you quell yourself enough to slowly peel the straps of your dress off of your body. It’s tight, and the freedom is exhilarating. You give up the confinements of your clothing to be confined by the world and rules that He creates. The hotel room is cold against your skin, and your nipples harden the second the dress slides to your waist. All the while, Hoseok follows the dress and your shaking fingers.

He only moves to take off His blazer, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt . He has no tie on, something you’d been displeased about as soon as you walked in the hotel lobby. You’d wanted Him to tie you to the bedpost with it, stuff your mouth to choke on your own moans. But you remember the restraint bar, and thrill at the thought of a new adventure as you kick the dress away from your feet.

“Last time we got in trouble for being able to see something I wasn’t supposed to, right?” Hoseok asks, straightening his sleeves. Even dressed down, He’s perfectly poised.

You nod, “Yes, sir.”

“Then let’s be respectful and take everything off. How about that, Kitten?”  Hoseok says with a nonchalant wave of His hand as though His dark eyes aren’t glued to the black lace on your hips.

You can’t help but feel a bit fond even at the lewd expression. You oblige, but not without a twist since Namjoon has been brought up again. Rising on your toes, you twist slowly, revealing your backside to him with the fading yellow bruises. You hear Hoseok suck in a breath.

You bend forward, sticking your thumbs in your panties to pull them down, and hear a low growl. “What are you playing at.”

It’s more of a demand for an answer than an actual question. You feel the light ache as the lace constricts around your ass and rubs against the bruises, the bruises from another man.

Your response is a resounding yelp as Hoseok’s firm hand smacks the side of your ass so hard you stumble and fall to the bed.

“Really,” He growls. “I’m only here for a night. I only have so many lessons I can teach you in one evening.”

You dig your fingers into the comforter, eyes squeezed tight around the sting that spreads into a tingle down your side. The land had your thighs sliding, your wetness spilling down your thighs from waiting so, so long. “Please start soon, Sir.”

Hoseok rolled His neck, a small pop as He picked up the bag and threw it on the bed next to you. On His knees, He creeps up the bed, and you are absolutely elated when a hand closes around your throat.

“You think you give the orders around here?”

You can’t help but giggle, cutting into a whine as the grip tightens under your jaw. “You do.”

“And who am I?” Hoseok asks, His slender nose tilted upwards and digging through the bag with His freehand.

“Sir.”

“That’s right, I’m Sir. And what are you?”

“Kitten.”

“No,” Hoseok corrects, pulling into view the soft velvet cups lined with velcro.  “Kitten may be a devil, but she’s a sweet little thing. You are a rude little fucktoy.”

“Sorry, Sir,” you barely manage as your mind reels from the hand on your throat, the cuffs in view, and the harsh words.

Hoseok snorts at that, turning your head side to side to really admire how fucked out you look. Then He releases your throat, and you fall to the pillows, much more preferring His harsh grip over the feathery comfort. He grabs your ankles and yanks until you’re spread out, planting His knees on either side of you.

You do your absolute best to stay calm while Hoseok wraps the first cuff on your wrist. As usual, he seems calm and collected. Unlike Namjoon, who gives himself away too soon, Hoseok could be wrapping a cast on your wrist, seemingly unaffected by your heaving bare chest and the twist of your thighs between His legs.

You missed Him. Those dark eyes that focus on his work to make sure the cuffs are secure but not too tight. The way He quickly jerks his head to instruct your which limb to place where. You’ve done this so often now for so many years, there’s no words needed as He moves down to wrap the last cuff around your leg.

It’s almost unbearable. Being left in silence. Each tear of the velcro and shuffle of the sheets has your mind racing towards the end. Because you know, when this is done, He’ll fuck you. And god, how you need to be fucked by Him. Used and used until you’re raw and He’s sated.

When Hoseok reaches for the bar, you quickly pull your legs and hands up for His easy access.

“Look at you,” Hoseok muses, running a hand down your side. You glance over for a second, the sound of His voice startling you after the silence. Seeing your expression, Hoseok checks in. “Give me a color, kitten.”

“Please, Sir,” you beg before you realize what he’s asking. “Green.”

“That’s my kitten,” Hoseok smiles, pinching your hip playfully. “Ready for me to tie you up and fuck you senseless?”

Your legs twist involuntarily. “I’ve been waiting forever.”

You immediately regret it, hearing the frustrated impatience in your voice and knowing He heard it, too. You’d been too lost in it, entranced by the spread of His soft lips, His gentle touches, and forgotten your position. You really did need to be punished.

Hoseok’s soft eyes harden immediately. He stops moving. “Have I not been treating you right? Are you miserable?”

You shake your head shaking your wrists to get Him to continue. “No, Sir. No, I love it.”

Hoseok grabs your shaking wrist and yanks you up. You're a breath from those lips that lather you in loathing words as He looks from your petulant hands to your pout. “What a fucking brat you’ve become.”

You thrill even as your mind tells you to stop. “Yes, sir.”

Hoseok’s rough now, and you try not to squeal in delight. He grabs the bar, hooking the cuffs of your hands to the inside. With a touch so rough you feel the muscles of your thighs argue, He hooks your ankle cuffs to the outside of the bar. Now your hands and ankles are aligned on the bar, unable to twist or fuss other than the arch and caving of your back still on the bed.

He holds it high with a shake. Your hips lift off the bed and you’re rendered motionless, testing the bonds to realize you’re trapped. A blush has the decency to cover your cheeks as Hoseok ogles you, your ass and sopping clit on display for Him.

“That’s better,” Hoseok sighs. “Can’t trust you to hold yourself together now, can I?”

He drops the bar and you squeak as your body crumples in on itself. You feel completely out of control, unable to move anywhere, and you love it. Especially as you see Hoseok reach for His belt. Still clothed, He simply unzips His slacks, pulling His cock from His briefs.

To your delight, it stiffly stands at attention, curving towards the ceiling. Hoseok grips the girth in His pretty hands, stroking a few times as He stares down at you and your predicament.

“Been waiting forever for me to fuck you, huh?” Hoseok comments.

“Yes, Sir,” you answer immediately, ready to be a good girl to get that cock. This time, Hoseok brings the bar above your head. Your entire body is bent over, knees on either side of your head. You gasp, not even sure you could bend this way, but you’d do anything for Sir.

“Too bad,” Hoseok muses, hair brushing into His eyes as He shuffles closer. “This isn’t about you, kitten. You’re just a thing for me to use, right?”

You aren’t sure what He means. Being used is being fucked. You give Him a questioning furrow, unable to tilt your head pinned down by the bar.

“It’s been awhile. I’m taking my time. Don’t you want me to enjoy myself?” Hoseok explains, having the nerve to shrug as His cock brushes your ass.

“Anything, I’ll take anything, sir,” you beg, trying to wriggle closer but unable to move.

Hoseok leans up again, a small smile playing on His lips, cheeks tucking up in a way that looks sinfully boyish when He remarks, “You’ll get whatever I give you.”

He presses His cock between your folds, lips pursing at how hot and wet you are for Him. The deepest groan rumbles through His chest as He throws His head back. Your whine follows, feeling the underside of His cock roll over your clit. He pumps His hips lightly, lips pursed as your wetness coats his cock, both of you getting off on the feel of the other.

Knowing your cunt is the reason He looks blissed out makes you preen, only to remind you that you’re held down by the bar, an extension of His will. But you know Him, He wants you to fight against it, watch you struggle.

“Please, Sir,” you whine. You keep trying to shift your hips, but Hoseok just chuckles as He continues to rub the head of His cock over your clit, pressing harder. It’s not enough, and you feel yourself clench.

“What, isn’t this what you waited for?” Hoseok asks, speeding up. Your head rolls, heat spreading through your body. You got worked up so quickly, you’re already so close.

“Please, please Sir,” you try, feeling words leave you as that familiar tingle starts to spread.

“Are you going to cum already, kitten?” Hoseok asks, voice unfairly even. You shake your head but sink your teeth into your lip. Not yet, you don’t want to yet. “Fine, come.”

Your eyes snap open at that. You’ve never been given permission so early. “Really?”

Hoseok grips your thigh for a better position, and the sting of the stretch almost sends you over the edge. “Sure, why not? Come. And come again. And keep coming. I’m not going to stop. I’m going to keep going until you can’t take it and then keep going some more to make sure you don’t forget me long after I leave.”

You groan, pressing into the sheets. There’s so much you want to say. How you’d never forget Him. How you wait for His visits, desperate to please and be used and feel His hands and eyes on you. But you can’t say anything as your first orgasm bursts through you. It’s so satisfying yet not enough as you feel your body clenching around nothing, hot irritation licking at your nerves as they alight with pleasure.

And then you're grinding your teeth in overstimulation. Hoseok doesn’t stop. If anything, He starts rubbing the shaft over your sensitive clit, so stiff it feels almost painful. Your legs jerk each time it’s too much. But you can handle it, the pain quickly overtaken by the pleasure, knowing you’re giving Him pleasure. Within a minute, another orgasm overtakes you, back trying to arch for a firmer press of his cock but shrink away from the overstimulation that still wracks your clit.

But you’re stuck, ankles at your wrists, pinned to the bed, as Hoseok continues the same pace. You whimper, His cock dipping barely inside you only to collect your slick and continue torturously circling your clit.

“Awh, poor kitten,” Hoseok mutters. He leans close, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. You don’t realize a few tears have spilled over your cheeks as a third orgasm starts to grow, starting to cut off at the sensitive need for a break each time, your body protesting against what your mind wants. “Is it too much for you? All talk and no game?”

You shake your head, feeling the tears roll off to the side. “No, Sir. Please use me, Sir. Please.”

Hoseok smiles at that. “God, you look so pretty right now.”

Your heart thrills, and y ou can’t help the loose giggle that tumbles out between pants and whines.

“Wanna take a photo? Show Joonie what a dumb little slut you are for my cock?” Hoseok muses, but the breathlessness in His voice is finally there.

“Mm,” you try to speak, but your entire body is trying to rock into Hoseok’s cock, somehow still desperate for more.

“Mhm?” Hoseok finishes. “Let’s wait. You look prettiest when you come. Come for me, and we’ll show Joonie how pretty it is.”

You want to argue. You want to have Hoseok on you instead, not drifting away to hold a phone at arm’s length. It draws your attention to how He’s still in His shirt and pants, just using his cock like a toy to drive your naked body insane. And that’s all it takes. Again, you’re orgasming, and you actually cry this time at how fleeting it is, at how much you need more.

Hoseok turns the phone to Himself, pausing the stroke of His cock, and you feel so spent. “Cute.”

You want to ask to see, but Hoseok tosses the phone. “That’ll be for later when I miss your pretty, tear-stained cheeks. Where were we?”

You try to say something, but there’s a lump in your throat. Your mind is spinning, bright with pleasure and dull with exertion and somehow already desperate for knowing when Hoseok will choose to look at your photo instead of someone else.

“Color, kitten.”

“Green,” you say. Then add, “Please fuck me.”

“Yellow?” Hoseok repeats back, catching your clause.

“Please fuck me,” you pout, hoping you look as depserate as you feel but not too lost. “I want to be used, sir. Green.”

Hoseok teeters a moment, and you see the assessment flash in His gaze. You sniffle, trying to raise your head in some kind of show that you can take it. Because you can. You want it. Need it.

“Okay, kitten,” Hoseok says. He gently strokes your cheek. “You’ve done so good for me, huh? Letting me watch your pretty face fall apart. Gonna fuck you now like a good kitten does. Letting me take my time until I pump you full of cum.”

“Yes, please, Sir,” you sniffle, breath too far gone to try and catch it. Hoseok reaches into his bag again, but you close your eyes, just wanting to feel him on you, over you, in you.

As Hoseok sinks in, thumb on your clit, you can’t believe your body is rocked by another orgasm instantly. The feeling of Him filling you up, the curve of His cock against your walls, the incredible sensation of finally, finally being full has your hands balling into fists above your head and choking on a sob.

“That’s it,” Hoseok coos softly, almost condescendingly as your mouth opens in a breathless cry. “That’s what you want. This fat cock fucking you hard, isn’t it.”

“Please,” you pant, scared He won’t do it. But He pumps into you once, twice, so hard that the slap of skin rises over your cries.

“Fuck, listen to you,” Hoseok marvels. You can’t even look at Him, so lost in the sensation, body pulsing with pleasure and raw desire and a need to fight against your body saying that it’s too much because you just want to sink deeper and deeper into His spell, just like His cock inside of you. As Hoseok fucks you, it’s as though you don’t even feel yourself, just Him. The damp skin of His thighs, the strong hands dragging you close, the hot breath panting against your calves, and the head of His cock nudging into your g-spot over and over again.

And you come again. It’s a short rush, and it’s blinding. Your eyes white and you mewl, or maybe you never stopped, a bumbling mess as you’re lost in Hoseok. You aren’t even sure if you orgasm again, just listening to His grunts and pants and the guttural groan as He comes, body pressed to yours, and it’s as though there is nothing but Hoseok’s pleasure and Hoseok’s sound, the bed and the room melting away as you hear how blissed out he sounds from your pussy. You feel your body ease at the triumph, fading from white lights behind your lids and the rigid curve of your spine.

“Kitten,” Hoseok murmurs, and you feel something new that brings you back. It’s always what brings you back. Hoseok’s lips on your cheek, then your forehead. You try to open your eyes only once He kisses them gently, hands that were so demanding of you now gently brushing over your tear stained cheeks. “Kitten, are you with me?”

“Mm,” you murmur. As the tension and adrenaline fade, the soreness in your limbs begins. The sounds of Hoseok taking His shirt off, shuddering breaths, your own breaths, come back to you. You come back into yourself.

Hoseok curls Himself around you, his bare skin pressed against you as grounding and support. Hoseok is already taking the cuffs off a bit clumsily, making sure He’s kissing away each of your tears. “Did such a good job.”

You smile a bit, and at last, a hysterical giggle breaks through as your limbs are free and drop numbly to the bed. “I did.”

Hoseok chuckles with you, too. “Of course, you can’t be anything other than good to me.”

You reach for Him as He tosses the bar. Warm skin on skin seems to soothe your aching body more than any ice could. Hoseoks knows. As Namjoon needs reassurance with you, you need reassurance from Him. Your mind feels blurry, but you focus on that.  _ Good. Good job. _

Hoseok rolls you to the side, not yet standing to clean you up. You hear the condom roll off and plop somewhere, but you are busy breathing in His scent, burying your face into His shoulder. “Kitten, so pretty. So good to me.”

“I did good?” You ask, just to be sure.

“Of course,” you feel Hoseok nod as His fingers thread through your hair. “Are you good?”

“Mhm,” you murmur low, feeling a few more tears come to the surface. “Just need a moment.”

“Felt good?” Hoseok whispers, low enough that you could ignore it if need be.

You plant a kiss on His collarbone. “So good.”

And it’s the truth. You love being pushed. To take it. You rile them up until they give it to you as hard as you need. And after, they give you the softness you crave to return to your reality.

You both lay there like that. As the scene subsides and His grip loosens, you come back to the present.

Hoseok’s leaving today. The worst part of moving for work was leaving your first dom behind. He still made His way out to you and you to Him, but it made these moments in the afterglow harder, knowing you wouldn’t see Him later that week, more like later that month or year.

You frown to yourself, and Hoseok kisses it from your face until you’re sighing again. Despite the years, He makes every experience special and new. After some small check-ins, the conversation subsides. You try to think back on good times and not good byes. Your body sinks into the sheets and, filled with the heady scent of Hoseok, you think back to the last time you had met up at the hotel.

“How’s Kenna?” You ask.

“Aye, don’t start this,” Hoseok tuts, taking your question for bratty possessiveness. He pulls you closer regardless, a physical symbol that you are all He wants right now. Really, you’d had fun when He flew out with another one of His playmates. The two of you had a great time sucking His cum off each other's faces.

Hoseok deters the conversation then and you don’t mind. He squeezes you in a tight hug periodically, laughing loudly at your jabs, and hums lowly as He massages your thighs.

“Hmmm,” He comments as He helps you back into your clothes. “Why did you have to move out here? I miss getting to walk down the street to see my favorite little kitten.”

You giggle. In these moments, Hoseok is always more honest with the feelings He usually deflects. He isn’t one for compliments or receiving verbal affection, but after a scene, He lets Himself give in. 

“You're plenty busy,” you tease.

Hoseok pauses, slipping your shoes back on your feet. He stares up at you. Those same dark eyes are now soft, His sharp features turning soft in the warm light. “Never too busy for you.”

You smile wide. “Of course.”

Hoseok smacks your shin but then rubs at your calf affectionately. He lets you get away with anything in these moments. “Brat.”

You bend down to brush your tired hands against His chin. You give Him a small kiss, pulling back to smile teasingly just like you always do. “That’s me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the contrast between Daddy Joon and Sir Hobi!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed~


End file.
